Pathfinder
by These Woods Breathed Evil
Summary: Some decisions need not pay an ultimate price to solve them, only the conviction to carry them through be without mercy and without fear.


**Pathfinder**

* * *

><p>An explosion rippled behind him. The blastfront rippling through the atmosphere, dust coiling inwards into itself initially before expanding outwards.<p>

Gin's reiatsu pulsed as he edged closer, his soft-voice inching its way into his pulse. "Oya, your back is wide open."

He spun on his heel, swinging Zangetsu in the process and watched as the blade cut through open air with the former Shinigami captain flickering back to a safer distance.

"Should you really be focused on him, hmm?"

Ichigo glared and gripped his blade tighter.

"What makes you think my back is wide open?" A second voice came from further behind Gin.

The sly character raised and eyebrow and turned on his heel, craning his neck to face the direction of the voice only to see a bleached hair boy spinning his zanpakto on its chain while resting on a rock preface.

"Oh?" Pointing his ceremonial dagger behind him, he grinned. "Shoot to kill; Shinso."

In a reflective flash, the blade extended with nightmarish speed and punched through the black-coated teen's body. Much to his surprise, there was no resistance and the blade's tip embedded into the debris behind what was either an illusion or an after-image.

"Clever." Gin said respectfully.

Ichigo puffed at his hair, unimpressed. "Far from." He stopped swinging his blade and let it slip from his finger, the remaining centripetal force was enough to make it arc and land in front of him. Though, for once, flatly on the ground rather than embedded in standard comic fare into the ground.

"So, how about we take a break, hmm?" Gin asked with yet another enigmatic foxy smile of his, as he turned back to face the subsitute. His face was quite disarming, in that while it was definitely mysterious. Unless he opened his eyes, and he rarely did that, his demeanor coupled with his style of speech and even body language made him passive, almost friendly-but unpredictable and therefore dangerous.

"Aren't you worried about what's going to happen now that 'omoshiroi' and 'keikaku' transforming itself?" Ichigo asked, eyeing the fight taking place between his friends a few hundred meters from him.

Gin looked at Ichigo oddly. Slipping into a relaxed stance, he tucked on his haori-gi, straightening the fabric as he sat down on large flat rock. "Ain't this neat. A coupla' minutes ago you were shakin' in yer sandles, unsure of yer self. But now, yer here, without a care of the world. Almost like you can feel it-and I wonder if that's some front ya puttin' up."

The orange haired boy scoffed. "I said it before, 'n I'll say it again. Hell, I'll even tear a page from that bastard's favorite book. Since _when_ were you under the impression that I wasn't fucking with you?"

"You're so sure o'yourself ain't'chya?" Gin grinned.

Reaching forward Ichigo picked up Zangetsu and took a look at the dark contour of his blade and wondered whether the blade would've looked differently if not for his hollow influence. Shrugging away the thought, he stood up straight and stretched rather lazily to remove the kinks in his shoulders and then looked at the ex-captain. Jaw was taught, eyes calculating and almost nihilistic, "do you wanna try?"

Placing his left index finger into the chain of Zangetsu's hilt, he began spinning his bankai again. Extending his right hand he closed it into a fist and then raised it, "Jan; Ken;..."

"Pon." Gin finished extending his hand into a representation of paper.

Ichigo finished with an enclosed fist of ken. _Well shit._ He watched as Gin disappeared from his spot and less than a second later, a monolithic blade appeared from a distance exceeding tens of meters. Unmoving from his spot, he waited as the sword entered his reachable domain and stopped it with his right hand, his left still spinning Zangetsu. "Just kidding."

Gin raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in power or perhaps in the sudden refinement of what was already there. He watched curiously at the boy's actions as he stopped spinning his bankai, reached for its left hand and raised it. Realizing what he was about to do, he subconsciously tagged on Shinso and watched the hundred meter long sword shrink back to its original size, just as Zangetsu was bought down on the spot where Shinso once stood.

"Scaaarry," the silver haired captain dragged it out. "To think yer'so powerful."

Ichigo looked at him oddly. "Well, a bankai against a bankai is even ground; but what you're throwing at me ain't a bankai eh? You've got no reason to pull it back if your blade could stop mine. Am I right?"

"You're a really scary brat." Gin settled into a stance that emphasized his center of gravity, holding his sword at the center of his chest he opened both his eyes and gave a toothy-smile. "But I ain't done yet, and I'm glad I didn' get'ta fight a coward."

"Oh?" Ichigo looked at him curiously.

"Kamishini no Yari; Botou Renjin."

What was a clear line of sight became a wall of shining death, as the tiny dagger turned into billions upon billions of hyper-fast spear jabs. But, this bored him. It felt like Sokyouku Hill, but weaker.

Raising Zangetsu above his head he began swinging and it felt rather uneventful. The moment was identical to fighting Byakuya. _Identical_ and that made it relatively sad, as his right arm became a blur; parrying, blocking at its tip, slapping away, down or up, all the incoming jabs of Shinso.

There was no expectant explosion of debris, dust and a need for him to touch his hollow mask. After the billionth jab withdrew, he brought his arm back down to a relaxed state and loosened his grip on Zangetsu.

Trust was key in this fight, and he knew that no matter what happened; even if he fell into the darker parts of the abyss of his heart, Zangetsu would always be there. It would not rebell, he was it as it was him, and he learned. With each fight, a new lesson was carved into the stoned path of his life. But right now, the trust was natural, fluid, entwined. There were no words, no gestures, and no fear.

Even if Zangetsu dangled, he knew that he could call the sword at moments notice and even if the sword's form wasn't faster. He himself was, and could shorten the distance. But with Zangetsu already in the air, they were unstoppable.

Another explosion rippled behind him, as he heard the faint laughter of Yoruichi's voice in between her banter with Kisuke. It was time he wrapped this up and had a little chat with Aizen. Focusing his eyes on Gin again he couldn't help but feel a smile creep to his lips and then, with a shift of wind, the reiatsu screeched, tore and enveloped the area. Lazily he watched Gin reach for his forehead and dark reiatsu crackled at his tips as he brought down a fox-mask akin to those sold during festivals.

Despite the heavyness of the surrounding reiatsu and the pause of the fight behind him, he was not surprised. Again. This was too standard. The general lack of originality was beginning to bother him. He dropped Zangetsu, blade-side facing the earth and let the sword sink in a few inches before offering a golf-clap to Gin. "Congratulations, you got a mask. But you know what Retsu-san told me?"

The fox-masked captain appeared to his right, his speed greatly improved, the sword extending to wakazashi length and in the process of a swing. Putting up a finger he stopped the blade with his left index finger all the while picking up Zangetsu and swinging himself. The black daito entered at the base of the pelvic area for the ex-Captain and penetrated all the way through the spine, severing it, and exited out the other side.

He didn't care if the man had been surprised or not, there were more important issues to deal with. Without looking back, he turned on heel and began walking towards the other fight. But as courtesy, before the dead man's upper-torso hit the ground, he offered up his answer.

"She told me that even without my mask, my reiatsu is twice as much as a standard captain's and certainly well above hers and that as long as I don't see Aizen's shikai, I will be able to defeat him." He heard the wet-smack of blood and gore and several coughs entangled with blood and saliva. Taking another step forward he finished. "However, you're not Aizen and your reiatsu, even with the mask, is well below mine. Sorry, but my friends are in trouble and I need to go."

Gin watched at the retreating footsteps from his fading vision and coughed up another ball of a mixture of blood and saliva. His lips spread into a dying smile. "Good,"

* * *

><p>"If you are using such a weak hado, then your next course of action means this;" the smoke clearead and from it appeared Yoruichi with her heirro protective arm-armor. "You are too predictable." Catching Yoruichi's arms, he looked at her defiant eyes and calmly stated what was the obvious. "I told you, you cannot defe-"<p>

A fist connected with his left cheek, cracking the Hogyouku cover that surrounded his body, picked him from his feet. Which in turn disconnected his grasp on Yoruichi's hands and sent him flying much like a doll into a towering pile of tangled rock, wire-structure and glass.

"But what about me Aizen?." Ichigo asked with a wide grin.

"Ichigo?" Yoruichi found herself surprised.

"In the fl-" he took a look at her outfit, then looked at her; which earned him a raised eyebrow for a moment then a grin. "What?"

"Its okay Ichigo." She playfully drawled, then reached up and affectionately patted his head. "I forgive you."

He squinted at her and dejectedly sighed. _This woman... seriously._

Urahara relaxed his swing and landed near him, one hand placed over his hat to prevent it from flying off.

Isshin rocketted towards his son, legs extended. "IIIIIIIIIICCCCCCCHIIIIIIGOOOOOOOOO!"

He reflexively reached up and caught his dad's right foot in his hand, palming around it and literally holding the man at an angle in the air. Reiatsu prickled on his hand, he could feel the weight of his father's power from the contact with just his foot, and it was to say the least; monstrous. "Read,"

His grip on his father's foot released instantly, stealing all of the man's momentum. In that very action he swung Zangetsu at him. "The damn mood!"

The hilt buried in the man's face and sent him spiraling into the building below. "Idiot."

Isshin didn't move from his spot, though cleared his imprinted face from the concrete enough to get his voice out. "As expected of our son Misaki," he said with teary eyes, "he has grown up well."

There was a burst of reiatsu and the debris turned into a cloud of dust and from it emerged Aizen, the left side of his shell cracked. "Interesting."

"I'd say, I couldn't stand the thought of fighting a talking condom." Ichigo retorted, then turned to his mentor. "I still can't believe you wore that. You're shameless."

Yoruichi added with a smile, raised her right leg, curved her body and moved her arms above her shoulders, grabbing her hair and posing. "That's called the allure of a woman Ichigo."

Ichigo raised his eyebrow at her, then the second, craned his neck to face Aizen and extended the gesture.

Aizen blinked, then blinked again. Then simply shrugged.

Ichigo twitched. "God, you're SO GAY!"

"Petty. But I see that you have disposed off Gin." Aizen said through his shell, the shape made his features minus two black eyes hidden from the world. "Certainly interesting. Nonetheless, be it three of you or four of you, you cannot win."

"Please humble us Aizen-san." Kisuke said sarcastically.

The becoming hybrid ignored the sarcasm, but nonetheless answered. "As I said before, while your intellect certainly is greater than mine Urahara Kisuke. My power however clearly exceeds yours, and I have begun what you could not finish with the Hogyouko." He raised his sword, "and when it completes itself. I will stand in a plane beyond the reach of you. I will rule Heaven."

Ichigo grumbled disapprovingly. "Those are just words Aizen. Till now, you've done little but preach. When you get your head out of your ass, let me know; I might consider taking you seriously then."

"How quaintly amusing Kurosaki Ichigo, but I do not expect someone as limited as yourself to understand." Aizen stared at him simply and then entered the space between the four shinigami in a fading flicker. But to his own surprise, he found only Urahara and Isshin jumping backwards.

Ichigo swung Zangetsu with his left hand while Yoruichi, in perfect synchrony, swung her right. "Getsuga."

Aizen lifted his blade to counter Ichigo's strike and managed to stop the attack successfully, preventing the Getsuga from coming to fruition, but in the process felt Yoruichi's fist connect with his face; again.

"Shunko-Tensho!"

Blackish-blue reiatsu flared briefly, but was quickly stiffled by the hybrid's reiatsu clout. However, the shining bright white texture spiraled inwards into a sphere on his nose. The subsequent reaction roared maddening with lust for blood, and poured outwards into a cero-like effect. Like an unfortunate object, his body rode the expanding wave into one of the water towers placed on top of one of the buildings and slammed into it with a distinct crack.

The contact caved the tower in deeply, splintering the wood and forcing water through the newly found kinks and cracks at a defeaning pace.

Aizen screamed in anger and bought his own sword down on the continuing beam of energy and shattered it like a tube of fine glass hitting the floor, with a billion glittering fragments scattering into the air. He felt a warm liquid move its way down from his forehead on the outside of his mask. Reaching up he rubbed some off liquid up and bought it in front of him only to notice its red color. Blood. The attack had managed to penetrate the shell further and had cut him.

Unacceptable. Then the reiatsu shifted again. Looking up he felt two fists connect with his face, burying the full force of their blows into the shell that covered his nose. The energy behind the blows drove him from through the collapsing tower and thrust him like a rocket into the building behind him in a massive eruption of dust, concrete, shattered glass, and twisted barbs spiking upwards into the atmosphere.

Both shinigami flickered back to the point where Urahara and Isshin were standing in the air. "Your turn," the pair said in unison then looked each other in the eyes and shrugged.

"Found yourself a new partner in crime have you, Yoruichi-san?" Kisuke said cheekily.

It happened in an instant. Ichigo found himself whistling as sickle of blood red energy shifted past him, between the gaps of himself and his teacher; the female one.

"And then there was one," Kisuke finished before flickering away.

"Feh," Ichigo said nonchalantly, then sidestepped as Aizen's blade slashed through the spot where he stood.

Aizen collected reikyou at his feet, and flipped, spinning, in turn kicking Isshin in the chest. The shinigami flew like a brick falling from the sky and impacted straight in the ground. Its resonating boom rattled the windows in all buildings arround.

Yoruichi followed suit and put distance between her and Aizen, but found herself watching with concern as Ichigo stood in his spot, Zangetsu gripped in his hand; but otherwise relaxed in his stance. "Ichigo!"

He ignored her and instead impassively looked at Aizen in front of him.

"One down." Aizen said and focused on Yoruichi next. Spinning on his heel, he released the collected reikyou and focused a new vertical path to run down on. Channelling reiatsu into his sword again, he began his run only to find himself jarred to a halt.

"I'm still here bastard." Ichigo added disappointedly as he held onto the scruff of Aizen's second skin.

Aizen narrowed his eyes, feeling his own grip on Kyouka Suigetsu tighten. He swung the sword with lightning fast efficiency and watched in horror as the boy levered his wrist to angle his bankai upwards and with a second jarring impact, his own swing stopped. "Impossible."

Ichigo increased his grip on Zangetsu, releasing his grip on Aizen's collar in the process and swung with his right hand. The force between him and Aizen increased dramatically and the man went flying, his own balance no longer controlled; into a failing trajectory a third time onto the top of a building. Like a tumbling pebble, the former shinigami made contact the roof's tiling, sending up a cloud of dust and crete-fragments, then came the second tumble and a third. At the last bump, the man managed to flip himself upright and skid to a halt. "No. Its not."

Aizen seethed in the sudden difference in display of strenght, and his own reiatsu flickered wildly; but only for a moment. He regained composure and straightened himself, brushing off the dirt from his skin and pressing down on certain parts of himself to mend the bends and breaks. "I see, your confidence is commendable Kurosaki Ichigo. You will forgive me for underestimating you. But know this, your brutish strength by your bankai will be not enough to save you, nor kill me."

Ichigo looked down at him calmly. "I'm waiting Aizen."

Sousuke pleasantly smiled. "Do not misunderstand _**human**_. It is by my allowance that you are allowed such words. If I choose to, I can shatter your precious bla-"

A stream of blood erupted from a large gash running down from his right clavicle to his left kidney. He found himself in a loss for words, there was a small crack on the protective skin of the Hogyouku. Reishi bubbled at his wound and he slipped to his knees, pending forward and finally fading away with a soft thud.

Ichigo stood behind the fallen man, blade's tip touching the ground and pooling the blood that slid down its length. Not bothering to turn, he interrupted the dead man's last thoughts. "I am waiting," he stressed the word, "Aizen."

* * *

><p>He eyed Aizen's corpse from the edge of his vision, blood had begun to seep from beneath the body and slowly creep across the cooling rooftop. Aizen still retained the sheer surprise as he had died, eyes wide; mouth open, and the left arm extended with palm half-closing.<p>

But, he sadly mused, it was just the beginning. Like his own transformation many months earlier, Aizen would cling to the instinct of life and forcibly evolve beyond simply a shinigami to one with hollow like powers. To that, he sighed; a weary one no less.

A moment later, he felt a slight vibration and focused once again ahead of him. His mentor had gently touched down in front of him, her eyes were calculating, but otherwise cold. Being slightly taller than her, he managed a glimpse of his dad landing on the roof top behind her and Urahara right next to him; their faces equally impassive.

"You son of a bitch." She slapped him. "This isn't a game!"

"No, it isn't; but you're only shinigami-you wouldn't understand." He answered her quietly.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" She asked irritably, grabbing his collar and pulling him closer. "You're my student, don't make my blood boil with this bullshit!"

He eyed her flatly and then gently grasped her wrist, fingers mingling with hers, sharing that moment of warmth. Prying her grip from his coat, he moved her hand down and then placed it between her breasts. In any other situation, he would never bring himself to do this, but right now, there was neither innocence or hot-blooded feelings involved. Instead, sincere and mutual concern-he didn't want her to die. So he pushed her, away, like he had done with Tatsuki at one point. Her eyes rapidly moved, not quite understanding the gesture, and then he watched as goosebumps rippled across her skin. Though she couldn't feel it at all, the raw instinct of her power and the vast experience of her age, resonated with what was coming into form behind him.

From the beginning he had felt the difference, and now Aizen was rising to a level where he had always been. In a very ironic twist, as his senior, it was his responsibility to offer guidance. Focusing back on his mentor, he nodded slowly and truned on his heels, "I'll make it up to you later."

As if those words were the trigger, the air behind him swirled and vibrated with hollow-tinted reiatsu. Zangetsu in his hand growled, the blade growing frustrated by the waiting. He had in the moments of his earlier death, learned what Zangetsu had inherently wanted from the very beginning. What his own hollow so greatly desired, something which Aizen was beginning to gain. He lifted the blade from the tile and leveled horizontally.

Energy piled on itself and emerged in a form of a gratituously towering column of lavender and pink. Twisting and contorting the air surrounding it, heating it rapidly and forming many different mirages; it seemingly warped reality.

Ichigo felt Aizen's own reiatsu grow considerably, gaining a new level; pushing him ever closer to his own state. It made him narrow his eyes, just a little bit. It would make dealing with the man just a bit more difficult now.

The pillar faded and Aizen appeared, his blade in full swing. He swung the diato in an arc and caught the man's white steel against his pitch black.

The building upon which they stood groaned and grumbled, their collective strength bending its barbs and pylons, forcing it to _submit_ to their wills. Windows one by one, erupted outwards into a billion diamonds, releasing clouds of dust, shredded paper and lesser office materials towards the ground below. It was almost, almost a rain of confetti; but one tainted by death.

"Do you see this Kurosaki Ichigo?" Aizen boasted while putting pressure on his blade and forcing the bleached haired shinigami to skid back by a fraction of an inch. "I have evolved, achieved true perfection. I believe a thanks is on order."

"Your welcome," Ichigo answered him with a shrug while gripping the diato's hilt tighter. He swung once more; slapping away Aizen's first attack since his new transformation. The air between them open, he bought the blade back again and caught the second strike, causing the area behind him to buckle, shatter and scatter.

"It was good of you to parry that Kurosaki Ichigo, I will use this form to test your mettle. Do not bore me." Aizen smiled smugly. His body had changed from a mere shell, a crysalis, to a fully formed butterfly like state. From his back emerged two sets of three wings. Pristine, white, and pure; they connected to the cross that formed the hollow-like hole in which the Hogyouku rested.

He extended his hands outwards, the sword fused to his right and welcomed anyone who dared to strike him. "Behold, the magnificense of the Hogyouku."

Ichigo lightly sighed, halting Aizen's own bombast of arrogance. Relaxing the grip on Zangetsu, he allowed his blade to fall and then watched as Aizen's sword came down upon him. He watched as Aizen's eyes widen at the change and right before the blade made contact; gain a twinkle.

"Hado 88: Shinsen Ginten Raihou!"

Yoruichi yelled from above him, her right hand gripping the lenght of her left-whose palm was open with a blue orb forming briefly at its center. She felt the need to muse about the quality of her attack with that of a cero, but quickly squashed the thought and focused the direction of the attack to maximize against Aizen.

Ichigo focused on her words, then looked at Aizen. The man returned the gesture, eyes filled with pretention. He felt his dad flicker away into a flash step and Urahra jump in the direction of Aizen, his own reiatsu mixing with that of his sword.

Kyouka Suigetsu slammed into his shoulder and stayed. The air around him evolved into a flare of glorifying particles of rich yellow, bits of orange and hints of red. The white sheen reflected the individual sparks sending streaks of orange hue both across the black and white counterparts.

"What?"

The blue light making the hado poured over Aizen, swallowing him whole. The initial layers of the attack washed over the heirro of the newly turned hollow, desperately attemping to eat the skin with its fickle and violent energies. Blue contrasted against the white, and then too gainted the streaks of white as the energy reacted explosively. Particles of reishi mingled with hollow and shook, releasing complex beams of light.

Yoruichi managed a smile, despite the comments earlier and likened the contact of the attack with great satisfaction. It was a very high level hado and it should be enough to deter him, if only briefly. She did not expect, in any way, for the attack to mortally damage him.

Concrete glowed a dull red, then a lighter orange before bleeding away into yellow and white. The spot Aizen stood upon caved in, forcing all its contents into the new hole, and as the building began to collapse on itself; unable to take the stress from the newly renewed fight, she watched as Ichigo flickered from his spot and to the edge of her own senses.

Cursing at the sudden disappearance, she too flash-stepped, to a spot directly in front of Aizen. It was a risky move, which she may pay with her life; but this was a moment where sacrifices were necessary. Her hands moved fluidly, pointing straight up; both hands with their index fingers raised. She bit back a scream as her own reiatsu scrambled through her body and into the surrounding field; tearing away at any bit of mental and bodily resistance it could find. Her lips moved in unison, despite the pain and began the chant. "Hado 90: Kurohitsugi!"

Kiskuke had landed behind Aizen and swung his katana; Juzu Tsunagi taking form.

* * *

><p>A weak cough escaped her lips as she clutched her right breast, blood seeping through her dust covered fingers. "Come to kill me shinigami?"<p>

He looked down her, pity glazing over his eyes. Behind him the air rumbled as sword pressure shattered adjacent structures and crumpled them like paper. She had been the new generation of Espada as that man had once told him, replacing Nel all those years back; probably even before he was a shinigami for the first time. But that didn't matter right now, there were other things to talk about; take care off.

Eying her sadly, he felt her glare intensify. Relaxing, Tensa Zangetsu slipped from his hands and into the earth below. Looking around him, he spotted a relatively flat piece of rubble that jutted outwards. Clearing the residual dust from it, he sat down and looked at her with a warm smile. "Had I, you wouldn't have had the time to finish those words."

"Ha!" Halibel laughed coarsely, "don't mock me shinigami!" She coughed, crimson sputtering from her lips and staining her white espada overall.

Ichigo shrugged casually. "I didn't come here to mock you. I wouldn't gain anything from that, but I came here to make a request."

"Fuck you." She spat at him, mixed blood and saliva splattered near his feet. Gripping onto her sealed blade, she dug it into the ground and used it as a cruch to slowly stand up; almost staggering in the process. The wound above her heart throbbed and with a disgusting squelch released another stream of crimson that trailed down her blood and dust coated uniform.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow quizically, hands rested on his knees; folded. "You still intend to defend him now?"

Halibel eyed him seriously, dug her sword from and pointed it at the orange haired shinigami calmly sitting in front of her, his blade several feet from him. "He betrayed us," she said with another cough, her teeth had been stained red now. "But he also made us."

Ichigo sighed and scratched his head. "That's true, but he-"

"Kurosaki!"

He found the silence from her call defeaning. It wasn't his name that kept his lips shut, no; but her conviction and desire.

Halibel gripped her sword tightly and softened her features. Brown eyes glowed blue and she summoned the last bits of strength. "Don't look down on us!"

Ichigo appeared behind her, Tensa Zangetsu in his hand; a thin line of crimson coating the sharpest edge of the blade.

A moment later a massive burst of reiatsu came down, an invisible rain; frothing with madness and devouring the mental barriers to gain access to the soul. The edges of his peripheral vision glowed a bright purple, the wind beginning to gain strenght and push against his back. Aizen had reached the end of the line.

He pivoted and gazed at Halibel. Her form was serene, without conflict; he, just for a brief moment envied her.

Black and red reiatsu ebbed and glowed in front of him, morphing into a white texture that spread across his cheeks, lips and skull. Two horns extended from his temples outward; black sockets for the eyes and a tightly closed mouth of razorsharp teeth interlocked together. He felt his hair extend well past his shoulders and fray, resting across his entire back.

Her fading brown eyes made contact with his and it made him grip Zangetsu ever tighter. Aizen's howl echoed across the desolated fake Karakura town. The windows rattled, choked and shattered; littering the air, trees, abandoned cars, and chairs with fragments of light.

He left the area with a light vibration. This was goodybe.

* * *

><p>"Kurosaki Isshin," the disembodied voice of Aizen Sousuke growled, as the newly turned hollow griped the shinigami by the neck. The man had gone limp, as the wounds on his body had exemplified over the course of the battle. Unlike his son, who had still retained his shinigami garb; his own had been tattered and torn, stained with blood. He had heard Ichigo's words when he had berated Yoruichi, but there was little time for bankais when the man they were facing could move faster than they could release.<p>

He coughed, splashing blood across Aizen's completely white hand.

"I suppose for commending your son, I must commend you. Your tenacity is alarming, but desire is weak. Truly pretentious."

"What's your point Aizen?" Isshin said weakly, Engetsu dropping from his hand and clattering onto the roof top.

"You like all those who have fought me possess a bankai. Yet," he paused, almost grinning, "you choose not to fight with it. Did you think that you could halt my advance with a sealed blade?"

Isshin rather than answering, instead offered Aizen a crooked, fading, smirk.

"I see," Aizen said after a moment. "Then die," and began tightening his grip around Isshin's throat.

The grip on his neck instantly relaxed as he crumbled to the floor. Blood squirted from the newly found wound, or rather stump that Aizen had gained. Isshin blinked, eyes bleary; as he noticed a frayed black coat next to him. Looking up, he felt his nerves crawl as a fully formed hollow mask with bright yellow eyes and black sclera looked down on him.

Aizen looked at his hand in odd curiosity, then shifted his focus up to the orange haired shinigami that had appeared, the boy's daito pointing to the ground yet again. The blade turned, blunt end facing him and then he found himself flying backwards; thick saliva thrusting out of his mouth. It had come far quicker than he had been able to react, and the force had been immense. He coughed as he soared through the air, hit a pocket of reishi; tumbled and managed to right himself. In a fraction of a second, a new hand formed where his old had been severed.

Ichigo kept his gaze level with Aizen. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Isshin said with a small smile, then reached for his own sword and moved to get up.

Ichigo blinked once, then moved the daito and pointed the tip at his father's neck.

"What?" Isshin asked in surprise.

"Stay. I'll finish this."

"Finish?" Aizen asked arrogantly. "Finish what Kurosaki Ichigo?"

Ichigo craned his neck and looked at Aizen, a small red orb began forming at the tip of his horns. It made the local reishi screech, as the energy gathered and once stabilized; lashed out against Aizen. A thin beam of blinding red slammed into the hollow, harmlessly splashing over the man's heirro. The hollow did not even bother to deflect the attack, but instead flapped its wings once and instantly negated the attack.

"Such a weak resolve Kurosaki Ichigo. That form, I have witnessed it. Having planted a failsafe into Ulquiorra; I have seen all that it can do and have deduced its weaknesses. You, Kurosaki Ichigo;" Aizen goaded, "will not be able to defeat me with it. I have transcended even you."

"Let me show you," Aizen said simply, "a true cero."

The very right tip of his wing, with the eyeless skull opened its mouth; an orb of bright purple instantly formed. It blurred with seething energy, pulsing and morphing with each passing second. Fluidic in nature, the wing arced back and like a catapult; hurled the orb at the substitute shinigami.

"Ichigo!" Isshin cried, flickering away from the attack, hoping that his son had followed him.

He ignored his old man and instead simply looked the attack head on.

A second later the orb slammed into him and all its compressed energy erupted into a monolithic pillar of energy; shooting both up and down.

The sky parted and clouds boiled away from the sheer intensity of the heat produced by the attack, whereas the ground below buckled and caved; melting in the process and turning the roads and cars below into a concoction of bright white, blue, and yellow.

Isshin struggled, desperate; but felt the reiatsu pushing down on him. The explosion was massive and it burned at his skin, forcing the man to turn his back on it. He screamed as it ate his flesh, searing it; making him choke on the smell of his own burning flesh. But he ignored it, as he tried to search for his son's reiatsu within the pillar behind him. Not even a spec pulsed back at him. "Fuck!"

Aizen laughed loudly, cackling even as both arms reared back. The laughter resonated over the roar of the flame and plasma. "It is done. You have been a truly interesting subject Kurosaki Ichigo."

"Are we finished?"

Aizen froze. A tiny blip of reiatsu registered behind him. "No..."

He swung his right hand, black blade fused and curved from the wrist; but instead howled in agony as a thin black blade entered at the base of his shoulder, shattering the bone and cutting through the extremely well protected flesh of his body. The blade exited at the pelvic junction and he roared in fury, twisting away the path of the blade.

A torrent of blood escaped his lips, as if some unseen force had turned on the tap in his body. He felt the hollow reiatsu of the substitute shinigami slowdown his own regeneration rate. His right lung had been bifurcated, along with parts of his liver, and intestines. The entrails hung loosely from his glaringly open and large wound.

"No, it cannot be!" He screamed, realization dawning upon him as he stared at the boy. Nevermind the fully intact mask, the boy's bankai coat was clean as it had been even before the attack had hit. "This is...do not mock me!"

"Mock you?" Ichigo asked him sardonically, eyes wide in disbelief. "Do not mock _**me**_, Aizen."

The hollow screeched in anger, purple and lavender light encompassing him and releasing upwards. A second later it disappeared, revealing a fully regenerated Aizen with a new arm; new body, and the thin curved blade that had become part of his arm. "I will kill you Kurosaki Ichigo!"

He extended his left hand outwards and all six mouths on the wings opened, equally the six eyes on the wings opened. Multilayered orbs formed and triangulated in front of him, into a bubbling and vile malformed sphere of hate. "This is the end."

Ichigo calmly raised Tensa Zangetsu as the fury of the beam came upon him. The tip of his bankai glowed a deep red, with a flicker of white, only to be replaced by ever expanding and coiling black. "Getsu-ga."

The point expanded outwards into a monstrous sickle of energy, digging deeply into the ground below and towering far above like a shark-fin; running through the earth, a vile beast of supernatural proportions. It slashed into the horizontal column of lavender and indigo energies, becoming an odd knife that both bifurcated the attack as well as swallowing it; forcing it to move beyond the existence that it resided in.

"Tensho."

Aizen watched in horror as the multilayered cero, in an instant, failed against an attack that he had studied since he had first met the boy. It was unbelievable, inconcievably, frightening beyond means. He felt his own skin, the transcendent form shiver at the sheer display of power; of indifference, it drove him mad.

The embroiled energies mixed, contorted, and bubbled; expanding outwards with blinding ferocity. A second later, they lost their cohesive forms and ballooned into a megaspire of uncontrollable heat and light. Flashes of blue white electricity crackled randomly across the towering column of yellow, red, and orange hellfire. Thick black smoke poured through the cavities of the concrete jungle, smashing through building walls, tearing at power lines, and downing trees like some invisible god; one angry with lust and an unsatiable desire for blood.

"Goodbye, Aizen."

The sky turned black.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> This was written on a night on 1/22/2013 and the ending was finished, but I wasn't satisfied with it. It just sat on my drive for three years effectively, never seeing the light of day. I just polished it up a bit and am pushing it out. In closing, I hope to bring a more serious Ichigo/Yoruich and maybe a more light hearted Ichigo/Yoruichi story in the coming months. We'll see.

P.S. This written in fond memory of Case13, to satisfy both of us-then, for our love of the Ichigo/Yoruichi pairing.


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